


Work and Pleasure

by GreyLiliy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Mirage believes Prowl works too much.
Relationships: Mirage/Prowl
Kudos: 6





	Work and Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Decepticonsensual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/gifts).



> [First posted to Tumblr on November 13, 2013 as “TF - Work and Pleasure.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on August 24, 2019 on March 14, 2020. Original notes have been kept.]
> 
> I believe something was mentioned about being granted a firstborn [in exchange for writing a Prowl/Mirage fic]… though considering how short this is, maybe half. Half a child. I can negotiate. :D

Mirage slid down in his seat, his back curved and his hips near the edge. He pressed his heel into the side of Prowl’s chest, digging it in under the headlight with a twist. No effect. The spy huffed, resting his cheek on his knuckles. “Stop ignoring me.”

“It’s hard to ignore a ped digging into my side,” Prowl answered, without looking up from his work and proving that, yes, he could indeed ignore it. The police car poured over his data-pads without so much of a flinch, as if Mirage wasn’t being as much of a brat as possible to get his attention. The blue racer rolled his optics to the side. He kicked Prowl harder, and smirked when the mech turned to ask, “Was that necessary?”

“It is when you call me here, and then proceed to ignore me,” Mirage said. He dropped his heel into Prowl’s lap, and crossed the other leg over it. Prowl snorted, not amused by becoming a make-shift footstool, and tapped his fingers along the white plating of Mirage’s ankle. Mirage said, “I’m not here to give a report, you know. I didn’t come here to wait and be reviewed.”

“And need I remind you, that you arrived a good twenty minutes before the scheduled appointment,” Prowl said. He held up his data-pad and smirked, “I still have ten minutes to finish, so you can wait.”

“Only you’d put work before pleasure,” Mirage sighed, lounging back. He massaged the side of his helm with two fingers, and flicked his optics off. As much as he hated to be ignored, this peace and quiet was rather pleasant. No hounding, no name calling. Just Prowl and an empty seat next to the desk. But, face was face. Mirage smirked, “It’s a nasty habit of yours: Work, work, work.”

“Not everyone considers pleasure the greatest reward at the end of the day,” Prowl said, quiet, personal.

Mirage flicked his optics on, and shifted his feet in Prowl’s lap. He switched one leg over the other, and tapped the tip of his ped against Prowl’s waist. “So what would you consider the greatest reward at the end of the day?”

“Work,” Prowl said. He clicked off his data-pad and leaned back in his seat. He rested his arm’s on Mirage’s legs and rubbed his thumb along the seams. “Having function, purpose. Knowing that everything is in it’s place. That security is worth far more to me, than something so temporary as ‘pleasure.’”

“I suppose there’s merit in that,” Mirage said. He reached over and pulled himself up by Prowl’s shoulder. He pushed his legs forward and pulled up until he was sitting side-saddle in Prowl’s lap. Mirage held Prowl’s cheeks, and kissed the center of his chevron. “But I do hope you’ve made a little room for those temporary things.”

“Certainly,” Prowl said, taking hold of Mirage’s hips. He squeezed, and picked up the next data-pad. He read it around Mirage’s waist with a sly smile. “I scheduled you in, didn’t I? I look forward to our appointment in eight minutes.”

Mirage chuckled, and dropped his helm against Prowl’s as he hugged his shoulders. He resisted the urge to smash his data-pad 'on accident.’


End file.
